Hither Walks the Cat
by Milareppa
Summary: Two old friends have discovered there's more than they thought to their relationship. But will either of them be willing to admit it?


**Disclaimer: **At several points in this story, I have referenced both Roxette and Celine Dion. Do not assume any beliefs the characters display about these artists in any way reflect my own opinions of them.

* * *

**Hither Walks the Cat**

_**"Happiness is like a cat. If you try and coax it or call it, it will avoid you; it will never come. But if you pay no attention to it and go about your business, you'll find it rubbing against your legs and jumping into your lap." -- William Bennett.**_

"Janet, are you okay?"

It was Sam's voice breaking the pervasive silence of her office. The CMO looked up sharply, then smiled wryly.

"I didn't hear you come in."

The astrophysicist sat down in a chair opposite her, like a patient about to ask her doctor for advice. Given the look on her face, however, Janet was pretty certain that was not why Sam was here. "What's wrong, Janet?" Sam asked again.

Janet plastered a bright smile on her features. "Sam, I'm fine. Really."

"You aren't fine, Janet. You've been distant for days. You've been quiet and down all week. When was the last time you slept?"

Janet bit back a sigh as Sam began the now familiar interrogation. She loved her friend like a sister but what was bothering her was something she could not speak to Sam about. Her friend, however, knew her too well to be put off for long by her evasions and the doctor knew a time was coming when she would have to admit something that would satisfy Sam without compromising herself. Now, with relief, she thought Sam had given her the very opportunity she needed.

"I haven't been sleeping this week," she admitted, turning to face her friend.

Sam sat forward immediately. "Go on," she said softly.

Janet nodded and smiled wryly. "It's nothing major. I'm just snowed under with paperwork. You know how that is. With Cassie getting ready to go to summer camp, the Pentagon's latest quest for the perfect briefing causing double the paperwork, on top of what I still _firmly_ believe is a secret SGC conspiracy to see which team can bring back the most injured members in order to break me, there just aren't enough hours in the day." She began to grin at the indignant look forming on Sam's face. "And don't deny it, Major," she added with mock severity. "I _know_ there are betting pools on what my next response to returning off-world teams is going to be!"

A laugh escaped Sam before she could stop herself. "You sure that's all it is, Janet?"

Janet smiled. "It's sweet you care, Sam, really but yeah, that's all it is."

"Well, if there's anything you need me to help with..."

"Convince General Hammond to give me a month's paid vacation?" Janet suggested with a sly grin.

"Well... that might be pushing it," Sam chuckled. "But I can definitely help with Cassie, if you need me to."

Janet shook her head in amusement. "Cassandra's pretty much ready to go and you already take on more than your share with her. All of SG-1 does."

"We really don't mind, Janet," Sam said quickly. "We enjoy it."

"Yeah. But I'm the one who has to listen to her complain that she does _not_ need three fathers, two mothers and one cranky grandfather watching her every move."

Sam's eyes widened. "She really said that?"

"Oh yeah. She's 16, Sam. What can I say?"

Sam grinned. "I meant the bit about calling the General 'cranky'."

Janet started to laugh. "Don't let him hear that."

They shared a chuckle before Sam patted her arm and rose. "Don't let work get you down, Janet. If you need a break, come and find me."

"Thanks Sam," Janet said with a smile. Her smile remained in place until Sam was gone and then faded. _I should become an actor,_ the doctor thought morosely and unenthusiastically returned to her paperwork.

The trouble wasn't that Cassandra wanted to take her entire bedroom complete with kitchen sink on holiday, nor was it her workload. She didn't even mind the amount of injuries off-world teams brought back. She had become a doctor to help the sick, after all.

No, her problem was with a certain event that had occurred in a certain place at a certain time with a certain individual. An event that, despite its innocence, had been plaguing her mind for weeks.

When Cassandra had been rushed into the infirmary on her sixteenth birthday, having collapsed on her porch, Janet's world had shattered. She had walked willingly into Hell for her daughter when she had confronted Nirrti with a gun. At the time, she couldn't think of a single period of her life when she had felt so terrible, so useless. The sense she had somehow failed as a doctor, an officer and a mother had dragged her to rock bottom. It had been a situation she had prayed she would never again experience.

Her lifeline had been a single touch, a single comment and a shared look she had been reluctant to end; an all-to-brief moment of stability and safety in a week that had careered out of control from the day Cassandra had collapsed to the day the medical department agreed she could be released. She had thanked Daniel later for the gesture that had bolstered her sanity and also for his silent, non-judgemental concern when she confronted Nirrti. His response had been a faint smile and an emphatic, reassuring gaze. Despite the fact he had said nothing, she had left his lab with more confidence than she had entered.

But now she knew the private Hell she had entered when Cassandra had fallen ill was a place she seemed destined to take up permanent residence in. No longer was it coloured by her daughter's health. Now it was shaped by uncertainty and fear. Hell had become a nagging, persistent voice in the back of her mind that maybe, just maybe, the look in Daniel's eyes and the tone of his voice had been more than friendship, more than concern.

She had no right to believe that, of course. Although she had been attracted to the archaeologist for years, it wasn't something she had initially been aware of. There had been no love at first sight, no immediate attraction, not even a startled realisation that the scientist who had made the whole Stargate Programme possible was actually good-looking and brave as well as intelligent and studious.

Far from it, in fact.

Her first impression of him had been unfavourable: an impatient, arrogant man who was highly sarcastic, rude and hypercritical towards those around him. His emphatic correction of how she addressed Teal'c had been irritating and his retort towards her speculation abrasive. Once the sting of his behaviour had worn off and the stress of containing the mysterious plague had eased, she had remembered that their first meeting _was_ as a result of his best friend beating him up over a misunderstanding. She had recognised his own stress then - the knowledge that two of his closest friends were suffering from a deeply contagious disease and that he was probably blaming himself for not having been clairvoyant enough to predict it would happen before it occurred. She hadn't exactly been the most patient and polite individual that day either.

It had taken time for her to get to know him, to accept that and to see the person he really was. Even then, all he had become was a good friend, part of a peculiar family unit that had been created out of the simple fact that while she had officially become Cassandra's mother, SG-1 had become unofficial 'parents' at the same time. Cassandra was the daughter of five adults, something that alternately touched and irritated the teenager depending on her moods but which had made all five friends as close as siblings.

Daniel had been a man who was troubled by the loss of his wife, someone who had utterly refused to allow himself to consider the possibility he would fail to retrieve her because if he did he would have to face the grief of her loss, the pain of his failure and the guilt that he was somehow responsible for her fate by opening a Stargate he had promised Colonel O'Neill he would keep forever buried.

Janet had been a woman with a disastrous marriage behind her, a deep mistrust of the male of the species, an inability to believe there could be any unselfish, devoted men in the world, and a new daughter who was traumatised by the destruction of her world and the abrupt introduction to a new one.

The one thing the pair had in common was the unconscious decision that forming new romantic relationships had been not just a low priority but a completely unpalatable one.

So where, in all the years of friendship, family, war, pain and peace had her feelings crossed the line?

There had always been little things that bound them together, small events that had occurred, insignificant then but which somehow had become impressed onto her subconscious mind: a glance, a touch, a shared opinion; even the times they had disagreed but had never lost the other's respect. Small things he had done that had made her understand completely the kind of person he was: his refusal to blame Nem for his treatment because he understood how the distraught alien had felt over the fate of his beloved wife; or his utter refusal to give up on his friends when they were in trouble, be it at the mercy of an enemy as small as nanocytes or as apparently insurmountable as alien devices that completely rewrote entire brain patterns.

Time and again, he had proven himself to be dedicated, conscientious, passionate and selfless; able to bind disparate people together, able to see the point of view of those who were alien to him, even those who had hurt him - and never would she forget the day they had finally taken Apophis prisoner; the hatred for the wrongs the Goa'uld had committed permeated the base and she understood it all.

As a doctor, her stance had made her unpopular. It wasn't because she was bound by the Hippocratic Oath that made her fight for the innocent host; it was the person she was, the person that had made her take the Oath in the first place. Prepared for the inevitability of fighting the SGC alone, she had been relieved to find her opinions were shared, then stunned as it finally dawned on her _who_ that supporter was.

There were two members of the base who had suffered above all others at the hands of Apophis. Both Teal'c and Daniel had their lives shattered by the Goa'uld: they had been uprooted from the planets and cultures they had made their homes, their families had been torn apart by the actions Apophis took against them; together they had taken the fight to their nemesis and at every turn, he had retaliated, twisting the knife in the hearts of those they loved as if to mock the pair. For Teal'c had suffered on behalf of his son, made the vehicle of Apophis' hatred. For Daniel, it had been his wife, made the consort of Apophis for the purpose of creating a child that would one day make Apophis invincible, an act that had robbed Daniel not just of his wife but of his chance to become a father as well.

She had braced herself to confront their hatred and pain above all others on the base, and instead had found her every argument passionately supported by Daniel who had fought as fiercely as she for the right to protect the host from his enslaver's legacy.

Janet knew that had been the moment. The moment when she had seen right to the heart of Daniel and understood the kind of man he was; when she had finally realised that despite her terrible experiences with men that it was wrong for her to paint all of them with the brush that had been tainted by her ex-husband. It had been the day when she had finally been able to stand tall and tell herself she would be a victim of her past no longer and look towards the future with new hope in her heart.

Although Daniel didn't know it, in the last hours of the host's life his selfless sacrifice of his own pain to comfort the priest with ancient rites had saved two souls instead of one.

That night, his gift to Janet had been the chance to move on and open her heart once more without fear. But even with hindsight, she could not say that had been the moment she had fallen for him.

She was willing, however, to concede it might have started her on the path.

She had never had a reason to engage in this kind of self-analysis. She had been happy to live a lie. A lie she didn't even know she had created. It was entirely possible she might have gone on indefinitely without being any the wiser.

If not for Cassandra's illness.

Even then, as grateful as she had been for the comfort Daniel had offered, the sheer relief of feeling someone reach out to her physically, verbally, emotionally, she had accepted the gesture as if from a friend. Maybe a brother. It didn't matter. The point was, as much as it had touched her, she had accepted the gesture _innocently_ and, caught up in what was happening to Cassandra and how that made her feel, she had thought no more about it.

That had been a time when the first thought she had on waking was Cassandra's health and the last thought she had before sleeping what she would do to Nirrti if she ever found herself in the same room as the Goa'uld. Then it was over and she had been able to look back on the experience with the confidence of knowing the outcome was a happy one; with the certainty that she could at last sleep peacefully at night without nightmares to plague her.

That was when the impact of what had happened in the hallway had hit. When everything came flooding back with crystal clarity, replaying over and over in her mind until she thought she would go insane: the brush of his arm against her shoulder as they walked, the scent of his cologne as he had leaned towards her when they spoke, the gentle but insistent grip as his hand caught hers.

But it was the look in his eyes that stopped her from sleeping at night. That look that had held her frozen in the corridor when she had planned on returning immediately to Cassandra's bedside, the look that had made her drift reluctantly from his touch instead of marching away, the look that had said... no _screamed_... that his words were sincere.

If she had been able to ignore it before, she was unable to dismiss it now. Denied for so long, her emotions had taken advantage of this weakness to assume control. For years, they had been hidden away, barricaded securely behind a granite wall, carefully preparing themselves for the war they knew would one day come and now the time of conflict was here. They were on the warpath and she had no defences secured to repel them.

She had only one single weapon at her disposal, a weapon so significant that even her well-armed emotions were currently unable to overcome. Her weapon was Daniel himself.

Daniel didn't share her feelings and because of this, as powerful as her unwanted emotions were, her desperate need to avoid humiliating herself in front of him was her last well-defended fort. As long as she kept it well-stocked with supplies, she could hold her head high, look her friends in the eye, and pretend everything was okay.

As far as her emotions were concerned, however, it was only a matter of time before the siege broke. They could wait patiently a little bit longer. Their day in the sun would come.

* * *

"Whoa!" Jack ducked as large heavy book went sailing past his head.

"Sorry, Colonel!" The archaeologists who were playing catch with their research material instead of walking the length of the labs to exchange their items properly didn't look apologetic. They looked as if they were enjoying themselves a little too much.

"Geeks," the Colonel muttered and edged around the two men. He tried not to come to the science labs unless he absolutely had to. It always unsettled him; it was like walking into another world. And not in a good sense. Sometimes he found it easier to deal with Goa'uld than with scientists.

But now he was on a mission. He was searching for his lost team-mate. The team-mate that was supposed to have been at a briefing five minutes ago and wasn't answering any summons.

Sure enough, he found Daniel at the back of the lab with his nose stuck in a book. "Geek," he said in a tone guaranteed to grab the archaeologist's attention.

To his surprise, Daniel didn't stir. Jack blinked. The names they called each other had become a running joke over the years. Depending on their moods, the reactions would range from good humour to open sarcasm but there was never a time when such comments were ignored by either party.

Daniel hadn't even batted an eyelid this time.

"Dweeb?" he tried, harkening back to their earliest days, their first mission. An insult he hadn't used again since that day, six years ago, when they had defeated Ra together.

Still no response.

"Um.. Daniel?" Jack asked, a little more loudly.

When his friend failed to respond again, the Colonel narrowed his eyes slightly and studied him. Although Daniel had a tendency to space-out when he worked, it was usually because he was tuning out his surroundings to focus on his work. Recently, however, Daniel seemed to have been losing focus when working and that, for the archaeologist, was unheard of.

It was happening again now, the Colonel realised, observing Daniel's eyes were not following the words on the page. They were half-lidded, glazed, as if he was staring _through_ the book instead of at it. He hadn't turned the page once in the time Jack had been watching him and it wasn't a very big book.

Jack leaned down and nudged him. "Earth to Daniel!" He yelled in the archaeologist's ear and watched with satisfaction as his friend bolted out of the seat in shock. Then he winced as the book fell from Daniel's grasp, the spine stabbing him in the toe. "Dammit!" he swore.

Daniel blinked rapidly then refocused on the Colonel. "What?" he asked, quickly retrieving the book from the floor.

Jack glared at him. "Briefing?" he asked dryly.

"Briefing?" Daniel stared at him dumbly for a moment.

The Colonel's eyebrows lifted. His friend was being more flaky than normal. Jack hadn't thought that was possible.

"Oh God. Briefing!" Daniel returned to Earth with a thud as he slammed the book shut and dropped it to the table.

"Yeah. Briefing." Jack followed him out of the lab as they headed for the briefing room. "Where the hell were you?"

"Reading." Daniel said dryly, being deliberately obtuse. He knew that wasn't what Jack was asking.

"Right." Jack responded sarcastically, recognising the evasion for what it was. "That's why you were staring at the same word for over five minutes while I screamed in your ear?"

Daniel sighed. "Okay, I was thinking."

"That must have been some thought."

_If you only knew,_ Daniel thought but wisely didn't say that outloud. "Yeah," was his non-committal reply.

"Daniel?" Jack sounded a little impatient.

"What?"

"What's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Daniel?"

"Nothing, Jack! I swear!" Daniel was earnest. "I haven't been able to reference that artefact SG-9 brought back from PX2-537 yet. It's driving me crazy. I know I'm missing something obvious but I just can't see it!"

"Take a break. Change of scenery. You've been cooped up down here too long."

Daniel readjusted his glasses thoughtfully. Maybe it would do him good to get away from the base for a while. Clear his head, get some perspective. "Yeah, there's a seminar coming up on some new breakthrough techniques for studying submerged archaeology that could have a significant impact on the underwater digs along the Nile. I could..."

"Daniel." Jack interrupted. "When I said 'change of scenery' I meant _stop working_. Do something else like... I don't know. Something that doesn't involve frying your brains."

"Like fishing?" Daniel sounded amused.

"Why not?" Jack sounded slightly defensive, as he always did when he felt his friends were teasing him about his favourite pastime.

Daniel grinned in disbelief. "Great, so you want me to stop being a geek and turn into an anorak instead?"

"Hey!" Jack protested.

"Oh, briefing room," Daniel said innocently and dived into the room before Jack could object any further.

General Hammond was staring at Daniel impatiently as Jack entered and relieved expressions were chasing away the worry that had been on Teal'c and Sam's faces.

"He was being a geek, sir," Jack said dryly, slipping into his seat with a glare at Daniel.

"Sorry," Daniel mumbled, sheepishly slinking into his seat under the weight of the General's gaze.

"I see," the General said stiffly and turned to Sam. "Now that we're all here, Major, you can begin."

Sam nodded once, rose and moved over to the whiteboard to begin her talk.

If SG-1 had been asked to take an exam based on Sam's lecture, they would have failed. Teal'c and General Hammond were politely attentive all the way though but they just didn't have Sam's background to be able to keep up with the science and Jack spaced out very quickly as he often did in scientific briefings. Daniel usually paid attention to all things scientific unless he had a lot on his mind. Recently, there had been so much on his mind that he hadn't been able to concentrate on _his_ areas of expertise let alone anyone else's.

He knew the problem, of course. It was a problem that was 5'2" tall, with reddish-brown hair and a temper that could intimidate Goa'uld.

He had been worried about her ever since that showdown in the holding cell with Nirrti. Actually, he had been worried about her ever since Cassandra had been taken ill. His concern had grown steadily as Cassandra's condition had deteriorated but he had made a promise to himself that he would remain quietly supportive in the background. After all, Sam was closer to Janet and Cassandra than any of them, what good could he possibly do?

But when she had walked out of the infirmary with him, looking so small, so tired, her voice so defeated, he had realised for the first time just how vulnerable and alone the woman behind the professional mask had become. For a moment, the inscrutable, intimidating CMO had been nowhere in sight and he had been facing a frightened single mother who was confronting the possibility her only daughter might die. Alone.

Unable to resist her pain, he had reached out to her before he himself had consciously comprehended what he was doing and afterwards he had kicked himself thoroughly for being so forward at a time she had been so vulnerable, absolutely certain he had been overbearing and aggressive when she needed gentle understanding. On finding her in the holding cell, with a gun to Nirrti's head, he had understood her torment and sympathised but at the same time guiltily wondered how much his over-emotional display in the hallway had contributed to her loss of control.

To his, and everyone else's, relief, Cassandra had made a full recovery. He had retreated to his lab and hidden away amongst his books and artefacts, trying desperately to forget the events that had happened. Not the events that had happened to Cassandra, never that. He cared for Cassandra as though she were his own daughter and he had shared the agony of what she was suffering with his companions and with Janet. But anything he had done to contribute to Janet's state of mind was his own fault and he should have known better.

It hadn't helped that when he had gone to visit the healing Cassandra, she had been listening to music brought by Sam from her friends in school who were worried about her. She had been listening to some songs from a CD a female friend had loaned her by some Swedish band who was supposedly the modern Abba. Cassandra had bribed him into listening to it with her, telling him that if she had to suffer this torture for the sake of continued friendship with Nathalie, he could do the same for the sake of his continued friendship with her.

Playfully threatening revenge at some unspecified future date, Daniel had agreed and the pair had spent the next hour engaged in a good-natured game to see who could come up with the most imaginative insults for the sheer sentimentality of the songs.

Until the one song hit. One song that he had dismissed immediately as particularly weak and sentimental until the chorus had begun. And that was when he had noticed the words, words that seemed to reflect his mood at that moment completely, that had summed up exactly what his problem in the hallway had been.

_She's so vulnerable.  
Like china in my hands... _

And that was the trouble, he had decided. She had seemed so fragile in that too-white lab coat, framed against the dull grey walls, he had been suddenly terrified she'd shatter into a thousand pieces right before his eyes.

_She's so vulnerable.  
And I don't understand... _

He certainly didn't. She had been his friend for five years, almost as close to him as a sister. She had seen him at his worst and his best. She had seen him as he betrayed all his vows to Sha're and planned to walk off into a pact with an alien princess he barely knew, ready to throw away everything he fought for and cared about for a twisted view of a universe he arrogantly believed he alone could teach others to embrace.

Although he had been manipulated and twisted by an addiction he had no control over at the time, he had known there was a dark truth to what had happened. His friends had constantly told him it wasn't him, it was the addiction, but he had known better. Still knew better. Addiction didn't create a new person, it brought out a side that already existed. He had come face to face with his inner demons, a part of himself he had always denied existed and which he now had to confront head on. Even now, years later, he lived with the aftermath of that discovery, the knowledge of the imperfections in his soul. Instincts, thoughts, desires that if allowed free reign would consume him as the sarcophagus had so long ago and turn him once more into something he despised.

Oddly enough, of all the people who had offered him comfort or advice, it had been Janet who stood out most in his mind. She had offered him neither comfort nor advice. Infact, she had given him an ultimatum. Pay attention or be sent to MacKenzie. He hadn't been planning to do either but then she had spoken and her words had cut him to the core.

_We've all got thoughts and desires we aren't proud of, Daniel. Do you think doctors have a Hippocratic Oath because someone was wise and noble, or because mistakes had already been made? You've been able to see the consequences of your darker instincts while protected by the fact you had been tricked and manipulated. You should be counting yourself _lucky_, Daniel! Most of us never get that chance until the damage is done. Now you know what could happen, it never will, right? Now you know what you're looking for you won't ever become that person you despise so much. Right, Daniel?" _

She had been telling him that now he knew the truth about himself, he could make a choice in the future. He had been given a power most other people were never aware they had. The power to make a choice when it mattered. Jack had given him the strength and support he had needed to survive the ordeal, but once the events had passed, it was Janet who had given him the kick of common sense that had stopped him from dwelling obsessively on what had happened.

_She's coloured all the secrets of my soul.  
I've whispered all my dreams... _

She was someone who knew all his secrets, all his weaknesses, all his strengths. It had been weird to realise she actually knew him better than his own wife did. Not because he had kept secrets from Sha're but simply because Janet had more opportunities to see how he handled the various situations the SGC had to face on a daily basis. And as his doctor, he had been able to, often forced to, discuss things candidly with her that he couldn't even take to Jack.

He had blinked back to the present as the song came to an end, unsettled, stunned even by the thoughts swirling around in his mind, thoughts that had been triggered by a single song, a song he didn't even like very much. He had made his excuses to Cassandra and hurried away from the infirmary, to his labs, and there he had stayed, successfully avoiding everyone, even his team-mates.

Successful, that is, until Janet had arrived in the doorway, looking subdued, quiet, her usual powerful personality so absent it was as if her presence created an odd emptiness instead of filling the room as it normally did. An emptiness that had made him ache.

_She's so vulnerable... _

She had come to thank him for his solicitude. Apparently she hadn't been offended by his behaviour in the hallway, she had appreciated it. He had never been more relieved about anything in his life.

_Her touch is gently conquering my mind  
There's nothing words can say... _

He had been about to tell her he had meant every word, that she didn't have to worry about coming to him if she ever needed anything and certainly didn't need to thank him. But she had reached out, given his hand a little squeeze. Nothing they didn't do on a semi-regularly basis, an echo of the touch they had shared in the hallway but his skin had frozen, his mind had gone blank and suddenly he couldn't remember how to breathe.

He might have given her a nod to indicate everything was okay but he couldn't be sure. By the time his senses had returned, she had already turned away and was leaving the lab.

Ever since then, every time he saw her, he found the lyrics of that infuriating song floating through his mind, taking him back to that moment in the hallway when he had stopped thinking of her as a doctor, the CMO or a friend and started thinking of her as Janet. A woman. A woman with an incredibly addictive touch.

Of course, he had noticed that long before then. He wasn't entirely sure _when_ he had first noticed, however. Before Sha're's death, she had been a close friend, nothing more, someone whose strength and opinions he respected, someone he admired even when he opposed her because he knew with confidence that whatever stance she took, she did so because she was informed and because she _believed_. Daniel had always considered those two qualities much more important in a person than the actual argument they made.

After Sha're's death, she had remained a friend and, if possible, they had gradually begun to drift closer. That had first started when Jack had been trapped on Edora. Janet had found herself comforting all of SG-1 during that traumatic time, and in turn, they had comforted both her and Cassandra.

Mostly, however, they were worried about Sam. There had occasionally been rumours of the pair having less than professional feelings for each other, but Daniel had always believed that was a poor interpretation. If he had to describe the relationship between them, he would have used the term 'hero worship'. Jack had become something of a mentor to Sam, the only other Air Force officer in the team, he was someone she could look up to and aspire to be. And when she had seen Laira, she had been forced to confront a bitter truth: the realisation that Jack had, in the final hour, lost faith in her ability to find a way to bring him home and begun a new life on this alien planet. A life that didn't involve the SGC.

It had taken Janet and Daniel working together to understand the complex expectations Sam had of her commanding officer. There was something in Jack that reminded her of her father, and her father's approval had always been incredibly important to her. More than once, Daniel had caught an expression of delight in her eyes as she watched her father and Jack play off each other's wit, a sense of humour the two had in common. Through Sam's pain, Janet and Daniel had learned a valuable lesson: they didn't need to be assigned to official missions and projects to work well together.

It hadn't been too long after Edora that he was confined to the infirmary with appendicitis. He had been frustrated and uncomfortable while there but his condition hadn't been the sole reason for his irritable behaviour. Without SG-1 there to distract him, Janet had spent more time with him than she normally did and it had unsettled him. Not because she had spent more time with him but because he _wanted_ her to spend more time with him. When he had heard what was happening to his team-mates he had stopped puzzling over his behaviour towards Janet and concentrated on his friends. It hadn't been until the last of the replicators on Earth had been destroyed that he had begun to allow himself to dwell on his time in the infirmary and by then his mind had found several reasons for him to brush off the episode and reinterpret it as something completely innocent.

Then Anise had arrived and turned SG-1 into a bunch of lab-rats for her experiments.

Not that Daniel objected to experimentation, he was, after all, a scientist himself. But afterwards, when he had recovered enough from the side-effects to reflect sensibly on the events that had transpired, he and Sam had agreed that Anise was a terrible scientist. Janet had been absolutely enraged by the incident, her emotions ranging from personal indignation at having been marginalised in her own job, to being furious at the treatment SG-1 had received. Daniel had found her attempt to protect the team heart-warming, a little too heart-warming, actually. He had been forced to confront that and realised he was more touched by the fact Janet had been trying so hard to protect him. He had forcibly reminded himself that she had been concerned about the entire team but the logic continaully faltered under the persistant observation that the team she cared about included _him_, an observation that had made him feel strangely giddy, almost like a teenager who had won an award of excellence.

Somewhat wryly acknowledging the emotion for what it was, Daniel had decided it would be better to acknowledge Janet was an intelligent, attractive woman that any man would be insane not to notice and then get on with his life. And that honesty seemed to have worked. After that, he had no trouble putting down any stray, anomalous reactions and emotions to a simple, rational understanding that she was a beautiful, successful single woman and it was just a healthy male instinct to appreciate that fact.

At least until Cassandra had fallen ill. And somehow, a single touch that he initiated in an unremarkable corridor, had allowed her to worm her way under his skin where she was now so completely entrenched, he couldn't forget the feel of her touch. Even now, weeks later when he should be concentrating on this briefing he was fantasising about finding another excuse to touch a woman who didn't consider him anything more than a close, but slightly eccentric, friend. A single touch that had finally revealed just how adept at lying to himself he had become; and now all the lies were exposed, the truth was wreaking havoc on his mind.

He sighed to himself. He really needed to get these impulses under control. Now. Before he did something they'd both regret.

* * *

Janet paced around her house restlessly. Cassandra had finally been packed off to summer camp and she had returned home directly. Looking forward to having six weeks of freedom from a teenager who was constantly underfoot, she had begun planning out an itinerary of work and whether she would be doing it at home or on the base when her thoughts were derailed by the sudden realisation of how big her house actually was.

Of course, she had known it was a modest size, it was why she had bought it, after all. And she had lived there quite happily after the divorce but now she found herself trying to remember a time when it had felt quite so _empty_. The silence was driving her to distraction and she had been unable to get any work done since Cassandra had left.

She shook her head as she realised just how much she missed having a noisy, moody teenager around the house and turned towards her CD collection. Perhaps some music would make up for the lack of Cassandra.

She quickly discovered it was a poor substitute and gave up again. Listening to her own selection wasn't quite the same as sitting in the den becoming frustrated as her TV tried to compete with the latest excuse for music blaring out of her daughter's bedroom.

Feeling a little lost, she walked into Cassandra's room and looked at her daughter's music collection. Some of the names were completely unknown to her. Others left her stunned by the realisation they were still alive and singing. With a quiet chuckle as she realised just how out of touch she had become with regards to the music scene, she took a closer look, deliberately selecting several groups and singers whose names she wasn't familiar with.

Settling down in the den, she quickly found it easier to work now that Cassandra's music was blaring out of the speakers. Although she quickly discovered she definitely didn't share her daughter's taste in music, she found it somehow comforting to hear, as though part of Cassandra was still at home, rather than on the other side of the US.

Occasionally, she would pause and quickly skip tracks with a shake of her head. There was only so much she was willing to go through to simulate her daughter's presence and she found herself wondering how Cassandra had managed to get Daniel to sit still in the infirmary long enough to listen to her music without going irretrievably insane.

She sighed as her mood sank again. One thought too many, she decided, as her thoughts shifted from her daughter to the archaeologist. She found herself wondering what he was doing right now and if he was enjoying himself.

_He's working, of course he's enjoying himself,_ she told herself sternly. It was something Janet, Sam and Daniel all shared. They weren't just scientists, they were workaholics. All three of them were infamous on the base for being impossible to pry out of their labs when they were involved in projects. Although Daniel was the centre of most of the jokes about the regularity with which the coffee machines needed to be refilled, Sam and Janet were certainly capable of giving him a run for his money. Janet was a self-confessed caffeine-addict, unlike Daniel, who refused to belief he drank that much coffee at all.

_Probably why he's the butt of the coffee jokes,_ she thought affectionately then sighed. He was at the base right now, working on several artefacts in his lab. SG-1 were due to go off-world very soon and as per habit, the four of them tended to stay on base at such times. Daniel and Sam would secrete themselves away in their labs, while Jack and Teal'c pursued a long-running competition in the gym. Both men denied it, of course, but everyone on the base knew they both kept score of every victory and defeat in the boxing ring.

She sighed and switched CD. Celine Dion. Well, at least she had heard of that name, she thought, and hit the play button.

She regretted her decision almost immediately. The last thing she wanted right now were sentimental love songs that bemoaned broken hearts and unrequited love. Quickly, she began looking through her daughter's CD collection again, looking for something a bit more upbeat.

She was about to hit the stop button when she became aware of the lyrics of the latest song that was playing. As the song progressed, her eyes widened slowly and her hand dropped to her side. It was as if the song had been written just for her situation.

Swallowing thickly, she put it on repeat and sank slowly into a chair, staring into space and listening as it played over and over again. Slowly, her mind spiralled back through the past five years, everything that had happened, all those little touches, gestures and conversations that had seemed so innocent then but which had resulted in such devastating consequences now. And slowly, a plan began forming in her mind.

It was an insane idea. She couldn't believe it had occurred to her at all but once she had thought about it, she couldn't get it out of her head. And the more she thought about it, the more she decided that it might be worth trying. After all, he didn't have to know it was from her and she was so connected to SG-1 that if it became a talking point, she'd get feedback.

Giddy with the reckless abandon that came from knowing there would be no way he could find out her identity and therefore no embarrassing consequences, she quickly sat down in front of her computer and turned it on.

* * *

It hadn't been a good day. The translation he had been working on for a month was finally beginning to make sense. He had been so close to making a breakthrough he could almost taste it and then he had been summoned to a briefing. Frustrated beyond measure, he had stalked off to join SG-1. After listening as they were informed they had a new mission and would leave in two days, he then departed the room as soon as he was dismissed to try and get the translation completed before he had to leave.

Only to find one of the other linguists had accidentally moved all his notes and no one could remember where they had been placed.

Eventually, he had been forced to write it off as a lost cause. He would have to clean out the lab on his return and go through everything piece by piece. It was annoying but he'd live. The culprit, on the other hand, currently had a very tenuous claim to existence. He wasn't sure if he was going to kill his hapless victim quickly and painlessly or grill him slowly over open coals and had decided to debate it over coffee in the commissary while he tried to relax.

Daniel would have been surprised to realise that the base considered him to be as intimidating as the tiny CMO. He considered himself to be dedicated. He knew he was opinionated but most of his peers were, so it wasn't something he considered particularly unusual. Had anyone told him to his face that he could be considered aggressive when someone struck a nerve, he would have been stunned. He was a firmly committed pacifist and assumed everyone knew that. Of course, everyone _did_ know that. He was very militant about defending peace, after all.

As a result, he wasn't aware his fellow archaeologists were currently trying to avoid him and was therefore surprised to find the lab empty when he returned. He was equally startled to find a sealed letter sitting in his in-tray that hadn't been there earlier.

Intrigued, he lifted it up. It was surprisingly heavy, which indicated there was more than paper inside. Up-ending the envelope, he watched as a letter and a tape tumbled onto the desk with a clatter. Fascinated enough that he had forgotten his earlier annoyance, he gathered up the mysterious letter and returned to his private office to investigate the contents more closely.

There were no markings on the tape. It seemed like a standard generic recording tape that was fast becoming obsolete in the face of CDs, DVDs and MPs. Still puzzled, he opened the folded piece of paper, only to discover that it wasn't a letter at all. It was a poem.

He frowned. No, not a poem, lyrics. The lyrics to a song. He blinked. A Celine Dion song? This had to be a practical joke. He didn't like this sort of music at all. Then he noticed there was writing quickly added to the top of the print-out.

"Daniel, pay attention to the words. They'll have to speak for me," he read aloud, as his brows knit above his glasses. It wasn't signed. He put the tape into his tape deck and began to play it. It was the song, he realised immediately and switched it off with a wince. Maybe he'd just read the lyrics instead.

By the time he had finished reading the lyrics his eyes were as wide as saucers. Taking a deep breath, he carefully put the sheet down, noticing that his hands were trembling slightly.

He didn't have a clue who had sent this but the message was clear. Someone on the base had a romantic interest in him and was trying to be his Valentine.

Unless it was a practical joke, of course.

He shook his head and tried to force his brain into gear. Who on earth would send something like this? There were only a limited number of women on the base and he couldn't think of any who would do something like this, either seriously or as a joke. His gaze turned to the handwriting at the top of the sheet. There was something about it, something familiar. He frowned and pushed his glasses up on his nose as they slipped.

"Okay, Daniel," he muttered to himself softly. "Archaeologists are trained to find relevant information from seemingly irrelevant clues and create working facts for existing theories. You're considered a reasonably competent archaeologist. At least when dealing with mainstream theories..." he paused and grinned at himself as he considered what Academia would say if they knew what he knew about ancient cultures. Then he dismissed the thought and turned his attention back to the immediate problem. The handwriting was definitely familiar. That meant he was dealing with someone whose writing crossed his desk on a regular basis. He glanced wryly around his cluttered office. This was going to take a while.

Three hours later, he was forced to conclude that the writing didn't match any of the archaeologists and linguists he worked with, nor did the writing correspond to Sam's style. With a sigh, he gave up and decided the puzzle would have to wait. Picking up the file on the mission he would shortly be departing on, he began to flick through it but found his thoughts returning to the mysterious letter. The trouble was, he hated puzzles he couldn't solve. It ruined his concentration for dealing with anything else.

He started to close the file, when he froze, his eyes fixed on one of the reports. It wasn't a particularly relevant report for the SG-team that was going off-world. It was just a medical confirmation that agreed with the MALP's telemetry suggesting the alien world was safe for humans to move about on without special protection. Usually it was signed by Doctor Warner or Doctor Fraiser. This particular report had been completed by Janet but that wasn't what he had noticed.

Janet's writing was identical to the anonymous message.

Not entirely sure what to make of this discovery, he quickly placed the report beside the letter and compared them carefully. He wasn't exactly an expert in graphology but considering his level of competence in linguistics, he was confident the two examples were from the same hand.

He took a deep breath. Okay. What now? Well, if Janet really did write this, he needed to know if it was a joke or serious. It didn't seem like the sort of thing she would do in either case, which just left him confused. He was, however, very aware that much of his uncertainty stemmed from the fact that he _wanted_ this to be serious. It looked like the sort of thing a shy teenager would do to attract the attention of someone they fancied. Usually on Valentine's Day, he considered, ruefully reminding himself that it wasn't even February.

He read the hand-written note again and then the lyrics. The note didn't seem like a joke. He tugged his glasses off his nose and cleaned them absently. He could respond to this seriously, in which case he would look like a total ass if Janet was playing a practical joke on him. Or he could treat this like a joke and therefore hurt both their feelings if she was serious.

_God, I hope she's serious,_ the thought strayed across his conscious mind as he replaced his glasses on his nose.

"Okay, let's assume she's being serious," he muttered. "She didn't sign it, so obviously she doesn't want me to know her identity. But she sent it, which means she wanted me to know how she feels. That's... why would she do that?" The answer was obvious, of course. She was afraid he didn't feel the same way. Although that still didn't explain why she would send it anonymously. If she wanted to know if he returned her feelings, it wouldn't help her find out what he thought about it because he wouldn't know who to address a reply to. "Oh!" he murmured, as it suddenly dawned on him.

His first impulse had been to write it off as a joke and mention it to his team-mates while they were off-world in case they had any ideas as to who it might be. Jack would probably tease him for months over it and spend almost as long trying to explain the concept of why it was so funny to Teal'c but Sam probably would have mentioned it to Janet and that's how the good doctor would have found out.

"Not bad," the archaeologist admitted to himself, then sighed. Unfortunately, second-guessing Janet's motives wasn't helping him decide what to do with this knowledge.

It was one thing to believe he had unrequited feelings for someone. It was quite another to be faced with the possibility those feelings were actually mutual. But it was only a possibility, not a certainty. Daniel sighed and tugged his glasses again. He had never faced this problem before. Of all his past relationships, only two had ever been serious and lasting. Sarah had been quite aggressive in pursuing what she wanted and thus had saved Daniel the trouble of approaching her. Sha're had been forced into discussing the situation due to a cultural misunderstanding that had left her peers believing they were already married. Once the misunderstanding had been cleared up, Daniel had felt no qualms in making the first move because he already knew how Sha're felt about him.

Janet, however, really wasn't making this easy. What surprised him was that he didn't know if his current emotion was frustration or pleasure at the confusion she was creating - and he did have to admit he was experiencing a certain amount of excitement at the uncertainty that had been dropped so ungraciously into his lap.

There was, he realised, only one solution. Since he couldn't be as certain of her intentions as he was of the fact she was the culprit, he would have to put the ball firmly back into her court. The question was... how was he going to do that?

He was grinning as he placed the report back into the file and closed the folder. He had two days in which to find an answer to that question.

* * *

Janet's heart was pounding so loudly she wouldn't have been surprised if it thumped its way right out of her ribcage. She was utterly convinced everyone she passed in the corridor could hear it and knew the reason why.

For the past two days she hadn't been able to sleep. Of all the silly, idiotic, childish things she could have done! Had she lost her self-respect completely?!

She had regretted her actions as soon as she had time to sit down in her office and really think about what she had done. As the shock of her behaviour wore off, she had jumped to her feet and marched up to the archaeology labs with the intention of retrieving the letter before Daniel found it. To her horror, the letter was already gone. Stunned, she had returned to her office where she had spent the next hour berating herself for her stupidity.

At least her name didn't appear anywhere on the note. It wasn't the sort of music she was known to like and it wasn't her usual behaviour. With any luck, she would be the last person on the base he would suspect.

Which, while a relief, was also somewhat frustrating. She _did_ want to know how he felt about her.

Just not like this.

In fact, she had been so ashamed of herself that she had spent most of the past two days holed up in her office or working from home. In that time, she hadn't even seen Sam, let alone the rest of SG-1.

Until now.

Now she had to give them their pre-mission physicals. That meant not just being in the same room as Daniel, but having to talk to him, touch him and look him in the eye.

She wasn't certain she could go through with this.

_He doesn't know you sent it,_ she admonished herself as she paused outside the infirmary to collect herself. It was true. He may be an intelligent man but he wasn't a mind-reader. As long as she didn't say anything to give herself away, there was no way to connect those words back to her. She was in the clear.

Taking a deep breath, she walked into the infirmary.

SG-1 turned as she breezed up to them. Daniel and Sam were already sat on beds idly swinging their legs like school children. Teal'c was standing next to another bed, hands behind his back, patient as always. Jack was pacing the length of the room already looking like a bear with a sore nose.

Janet couldn't stop herself from grinning at his expression. At some point in the past, Jack had become convinced Janet and the infirmary existed solely to torment him. It wasn't true but she did find it amusing. "Colonel," she greeted cheerfully.

Jack gave her enthusiastic expression a sour look. "Let's just get this over with," he said dryly.

"Of course, Colonel," she replied and deliberately walked over to start on Sam, knowing the wait would drive Jack up the wall.

Jack glared at the doctor's back in frustration before turning to pace. His eye fell on Daniel who was grinning at them both.

"What?" he demanded.

"What?" Daniel sounded innocent.

Jack muttered something and resumed pacing.

"How are you doing?" Sam asked Janet as she conducted the physical.

"Fine, Sam." Janet replied with a wry smile.

"What's it like without Cassie around?"

Janet chuckled. "Quiet."

Sam smiled. "Yeah, I'm going to miss the chess. Stupid, isn't it? It's only going to be for a couple of weeks and it's not like I get to play chess with her when I'm off-world anyway."

Janet grinned in sympathetic understanding. "Yeah, I've been telling myself something similar."

"Hey, ladies!" Jack's disembodied voice floated over the curtain. "There's three more of us out here, ya know!"

The two Majors looked at each other with broad grins. Janet nodded to Sam and pulled back the curtain, giving the Colonel a steady look. "Yes, Colonel," she said easily, moving onto Teal'c.

Because she was avoiding looking at him directly, she couldn't be absolutely sure but it seemed as though Daniel was trying very hard not to burst out laughing at their exchanges. The fact that Jack kept glaring in the archaeologist's direction, however, confirmed it.

Teal'c as always, was easily resolved and Janet paused, pretending to make notes, as she fought to make up her mind. Should she deal with Daniel or Jack next? The glare Jack shot her made her decision an easy one as she moved across to put the Colonel out of his misery.

As usual, he grumbled all the way through the physical before she finally released him and then there was nothing left for it. Only one member of the team remained.

Daniel's physical passed quietly, quickly and with minimal chatter. Except for the amused expression in his eyes, it was as though she was dealing with Teal'c. At first, she passed it off as humour over the fiery relationship between the Colonel and the CMO but slowly a nagging suspicion began to creep into her mind that she was somehow the current source of his amusement.

"You're good to go," she nodded eventually.

He chuckled and hopped off the bed. She pulled back the curtain and the pair rejoined the others.

"We done, Doc?" Jack demanded.

"We're done, Colonel," she confirmed with a faint smile.

"Always a pleasure." Jack grabbed his jacket and began walking out as if afraid she'd find a reason to make him stay.

She smiled. "Any time, Colonel," she called after him.

Jack muttered something she couldn't hear. A grinning Sam waved as she followed and to the doctor's surprise, Daniel threw her an amused wink. Then SG-1 was gone and she was left alone to wonder at the archaeologist's playful mood.

When she arrived back in her office, her plans to update their medical files fell by the wayside as she spotted an envelope sitting in her in-tray that hadn't been there earlier. Surprised, she sat down and opened up it up, pulling out two folded pieces of paper. Carefully opening them up, she felt the blood drain out of her face as she recognised the lyrics and tape she had dropped into Daniel's in-tray.

All that she could think of was that he knew. Somehow, he knew. How? How could he have possibly found out? She was certain no one had seen her enter the lab, the music wasn't the kind she normally listened to, she hadn't signed her name anywhere on the paper or envelope...

Or had she? Her brain snapping back into gear again, she grabbed the paper and envelope and looked them over carefully. It was then that she noticed a familiar scrawl dotting the lyrics. Startled, she paused and took a closer look. Yes, it was definitely Daniel's writing. For some reason, he had used red ink and every so often one of the lines had a cross or a tick next to it. Several lines had comments in brackets next to them. Despite the situation, she found a smile beginning to spread across her face. She still didn't have a clue how he had known she was the culprit but he had actually marked the lyrics as if a teacher assessing the work of a student.

Well, she thought, he did used to lecture. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself to read the comments he had written.

**Tell Him**  
_(A bold opening statement guaranteed to catch the reader's attention. Very impressive.)_

Janet winced. She could see that Daniel was going to attempt to embarrass her as thoroughly as he could for this. Her only hope now was if he thought it was a practical joke and responded with humour. At least that explained his amusement in the infirmary, she thought with a deep sigh. He had already known about this.

On the plus side, if he found it amusing, maybe that meant she hadn't offended him. Taking a deep breath, she continued to read.

_I'm scared  
So afraid to show I care  
Will he think me weak  
If I tremble when I speak?  
(Well, when you're particularly stressed out your voice does develop a slight quaver. I've never considered it a sign of weakness, however.) _

She blinked and stared. When she was stressed she did _what_? And he had noticed?

_What if  
There's another one he's thinking of?  
Maybe he's in love?  
(Ah, would that be Sha're? Yes, I still love her See Endnote 1) _

He certainly knew how to come to the point, she thought bitterly. But he had been right. His feelings for Sha're had been on her mind a lot. She knew how much he had loved his wife and she couldn't see him forgetting that. He wasn't that kind of man and she wouldn't have cared for him if he had anything different. Still, it stung. He was still in love with Sha're. That meant... well, it pretty much confirmed what she had suspected. No one else stood a chance. Absently, she flicked her eyes down to the bottom of the page, searching for the first endnote.

_Endnotes:  
1 There is, however, a quote by a woman known as Pamela de Roy that I think at this point is extremely relevant:_

_"Love is a wonderful thing. You never have to take it away from one person to give it to another. There's always more than enough to go around."_

She stopped again, staring at the words. So what was he saying exactly? She already knew he loved Sha're, he'd just said that. Was it possible he was saying...? She shook her head. That's what she wanted him to be saying. But was it really what he was saying? Swallowing thickly, but now hooked, she continued through his notes.

_I'd feel like a fool  
Life can be so cruel  
I don't know what to do  
(Janet, I believe the title of this song says it all, n'est-ce pas? See Endnote 2) _

She looked down, searching for the second endnote, pausing only when she found it.

_2 That would be French. Also known as la langue de l'amour. Or the language of love, if you'd prefer._

"Show off," she muttered outloud. She didn't speak French, although she knew a few words and phrases. She was well aware that Daniel spoke a prodigious number of languages. The other linguists on the base had told her that his name was recorded in the wider academic world as being one of the world's greatest living polyglots. It wasn't something she had ever heard from Daniel's lips, however. He had a tendency to avoid blowing his own trumpet. Sometimes it made it hard to remember just how good at his job he really was.

_I've been there  
With my heart out in my hand  
But what you must understand  
You can't let the chance  
To love him pass you by  
(Wise woman. Out of curiosity, are you attempting to convert me to Celine Dion's music?) _

"Oh God!" she could feel her face heat into a furious blush. "He thinks I like Celine Dion?!" Well, it was now official. If he hadn't been interested in her before hand, he definitely wouldn't want to come near her now, not if he thought she had _that_ taste in music.

_Should I tell him?  
(Ah well, in the tradition of men everywhere, I am refusing to take responsibility. You started this, after all.) _

"Damn him!" she swore outloud as she began to understand what he was doing. He wasn't entirely sure if this was a joke or not and was leaving it up to her to confirm it.

_Tell him that the sun and moon  
Rise in his eyes?  
(Whoa, are you trying to make me blush?) _

Her hands trembled. Oh God, she hadn't paid attention to some of these words. She could feel herself blushing furiously again. She should _never_ have gone through with this. He was probably going to spend all his time off-world laughing with Jack about it.

_Reach out to him  
And whisper  
Tender words so soft and sweet?  
(So Jack's favourite napoleonic power-monger has a cuddly side after all. The question is, how much are you willing to pay me for my silence?) _

"I'm going to kill him!" she muttered furiously, recognising at once that he was teasing her mercilessly and irritated by the fact he was managing it so successfully when he wasn't even on the same planet.

_Hold him close to feel his heart beat?  
Love will be the gift you give yourself  
(Oh yes, definitely trying to make me blush. No Janet, I have no intention of telling you whether you've succeeded.) _

"Oh now _that_ is a challenge!" she told herself firmly, immediately considering multiple ways to find out just what his initial reaction to reading this letter had been. Maybe she could bribe Security for the camera footage of his lab?

_Touch him  
With the gentleness you feel inside  
Your love can't be denied  
The truth will set you free  
You'll have what's meant to be  
All in time you'll see  
(Or at least we'll engage in playful repartee via letters dropped into in-trays when we think the other person isn't looking.) _

"You aren't funny, Doctor Jackson," she growled, fighting a smile despite herself. She had to agree, this situation was completely absurd. And it was all her fault. Somehow, she didn't mind anymore, now that it was obvious he hadn't been offended by what she had done. That alone was a relief.

_I love him  
Of that much I can be sure  
I don't think I could endure  
If I let him walk away  
When I have so much to say  
(I'm not planning on walking out of my job for the foreseeable future, if you really do have something to say. See the second letter.) _

Ah, now that had cut to the chase. She lowered the page to the table and opened the second piece of paper. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she realised it was _another_ set of lyrics. Her eyes flicked over them. Another Celine Dion song, she noticed wryly.

Her amusement faded as she read the lyrics. She could certainly see how they were appropriate to Daniel's situation.

At the bottom of this page, she noticed he had added something else. Eyebrows rising, she read it.

_Have I been showing off? Probably. But then, you are the one who made the mistake of sending a handwritten message to the SGC's senior linguist under the assumption he would never work out the author's identity. Graphology may not be a completely acceptable skill for a mainstream scientist but then, claiming to Academia that the Great Pyramid is 10,000 years old hasn't exactly been my most respectable action to date either. _

_Pour vos yeux seulement, ma chère: Je t'aime.  
Daniel. _

So that was how he had known it was she. She should have guessed. Her eyes lingered on the French. She didn't understand enough to know what it said but she had a suspicion she knew what "Je t'aime" meant and it gave her an odd trembling sensation deep in her gut.

She glanced at the lyrics she had given Daniel, then the ones he had given her. With a small devilish smile, she picked up a red pen and began to write.

* * *

Well, the debriefing had been more fun than normal. Not only had they needed to explain the mess their mission had turned into but also Hammond had responded with bad news of his own. The SGC was being pushed into a closer working relationship with the Russians. Colonel Chekov would be arriving shortly to debate this. Jack's mood, already soured by the Unas situation they had just had to deal with, became even worse.

Daniel decided the best thing he could possibly do was stay out his way for a while. He still had a lab to turn over, a missing translation to find and Janet to confront. Or hopefully, Janet would confront him. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on and he was feeling more than a little embarrassed by the manner in which he had retaliated to her letter. Initially, he had thought himself witty. Now he was feeling like an ass.

The archaeologist therefore wasn't entirely sure whether or not to be surprised when he saw the now familiar envelope lying in his in-tray. Making sure his door was closed, he opened the letter and noticed the lyrics he had sent to Janet had been returned. He grinned as he noticed the red ink splashed on the page. So Janet hadn't minded his response, then. That made him feel better.

_Used to be that I believed in something  
Used to be that I believed in love  
It's been a long time since I've had that feeling  
I could love someone  
I could trust someone  
I said I'd never let nobody near my heart again darlin'  
I said I'd never let nobody in  
(You might be surprised if I said I know how that feels. You might be even more surprised if you ever found out how I learned to move beyond my fears.) _

He paused and considered that, suddenly curious to know more of what she was talking about. He could sense the unspoken sentiment behind the words but he couldn't bring it into focus. However, it was obvious she didn't expect him to comprehend what she truly meant, so he made a mental note to ask her about it sometime and moved on.

The rest of the lyrics didn't have any hand-written additions, however, until the last verse.

_If you asked me to  
I'd let you in my life forever  
If you asked me to.  
(I'm asking.) _

He stared at that for a while. It wasn't much. It didn't need to be much to finally state once and for all that she had been serious and this unusual approach had not been a joke at all. He swallowed and pushed his glasses up on his nose. _Now_ it was time to be nervous.

He forced himself to stand up, making a much-needed coffee while he thought about what to do next and almost jumped when the door banged.

"It's open," he called, moving quickly over to his desk to hide the letter. He didn't know who it was but he did know he didn't want anyone other than Janet to see their whimsical little exchanges.

Jack poked his head around the door. "Okay, enough with the caffeine, we've got physicals."

"Physicals?" his mind went blank.

"Yeah, you know. Post-mission torture with Frankenstein's sister? Daniel, you okay?"

Jack must have seen the blood drain out of his face. Daniel shook his head and quickly downed his coffee in one to buy himself time to formulate a plausible reply.

It failed when he caught the Colonel staring at him. "Uh... that looked hot," he said and Daniel immediately found himself remembering a time when General Hammond had asked that question of Teal'c after the Jaffa consummed an entire kettle of coffee in one go.

He put his mug down on the desk and moved towards the door. "Yeah, Jack, fine."

Jack continued to stare at him. "Right," he agreed in that tone of voice that said he wasn't fooled for one moment. He dropped the subject, however, but Daniel's surprise was short-lived as he realised it was because they were headed towards the infirmary. If anything was wrong with Daniel, the CMO would probably uncover it within the next few minutes.

Daniel sighed. Of course, the CMO _was_ what was wrong with him and by now, she had a very good idea of that fact.

His fears were unfounded when they arrived, however, and found Doctor Warner set up to deal with them. "Where's ol' Doc Fraiser?" Jack asked, apparently as surprised as Daniel.

"Running late." Warner replied with poorly hidden amusement. "She asked me to get started on you while she catches up."

"Oh." Jack considered that for a moment. "Do Daniel first."

"Jack, there's nothing wrong with me!"

"Why don't we let the Doc decide that?" Jack replied smugly.

Daniel sighed and hopped up on the bed wondering if Jack was really concerned or just trying to get revenge for the pre-mission physical.

In short order, Doctor Warner pronounced Daniel fit and the archaeologist backed off away from the equipment with a grin meant solely for Jack. Somewhere in the distance they heard an office door slam and Warner poked his head around a curtain. "Doctor Jackson, could you go and see if that's Doctor Fraiser?"

"Me?" Daniel felt the nerves start fluttering again.

"You're the only one who's currently free," the physician pointed out with impeccable logic.

Daniel suddenly hated logic. "Um... sure," he said and moved off, feeling like a man en route to his own funeral.

* * *

Janet threw her bag into a corner. She hated driving at the best of times and today had not been the best of times. She sighed and flipped on some music to calm her nerves before she adjusted to being at work and slumped into a seat.

She realised with a start that it was some of Cassandra's music. Fortunately, not something that was a sentimental love song, although she frankly wasn't certain it could classify as music at all. Had she really brought this to work with her?

With a chuckle at her recent behaviour, she kicked off her shoes and pulled out the ones she normally wore around base, singing along with the insane lyrics. It wasn't as if anyone would overhear her in an office anyway.

She discovered how wrong she was when she swivelled around with the intention of getting up to find her lab coat and discovered there was an archaeologist leaning against the doorframe, shaking with silent laughter.

"My singing's that bad?" she asked in dismay, when she could recover enough to speak.

Daniel considered that for a moment. "I'd stick to my day job," he replied with a grin.

"Right," she said wryly.

"Although I'm not sure anyone could sing along to this. No offence," he added quickly.

She laughed. "None taken. I can't stand it myself."

"Then why are you listening to it?" he looked mystified.

She suddenly looked embarrassed. "I haven't had to yell at Cassie for playing her music for the past four days..." she began, then trailed off with a shrug. It didn't really make much sense now she thought about it.

He grinned at that. "I'll take a guess and say that Celine Dion is her first choice rather than yours then?"

"Ah." Janet suddenly turned red. "You weren't supposed to find out it was me."

"I'm a linguist," he pointed out in amusement.

"Right," she agreed. Her eyes narrowed. He had teased her for long enough, she decided. "Cassie was my excuse, what's yours?"

He cleared his throat and she grinned as it was his turn to look self-conscious. "Let's just say it would be a good thing if Accounts never find out I wasted Internet bandwidth downloading song lyrics."

She stared at him for several moments, trying to picture the hard-working archaeologist hunting through website after website for the ideal love song. She couldn't hold the thought and began to chuckle. He flushed, causing her to laugh openly at him. "Okay, I don't feel so bad now," she managed eventually.

"Glad I could help," he muttered painfully.

There was silence for a few moments as they studied each other warily. Janet was the first to find the courage to speak. "So. What now?"

Something peculiar flickered briefly in his eyes. She didn't recognise it but it made her nervous all the same. "Well, we have two options," he paused to readjust his glasses in what she had learned years ago to recognise as a nervous gesture.

"We do?" she encouraged.

"We do," he said firmly. "We can either continue sending each other love letters like a pair of teenagers passing notes under the desk so the teacher doesn't notice..." she turned scarlet at that and he grinned triumphantly in response to her blush. Okay, she was so going to kill him later. "Or," he continued. "I stammer in a charmingly nervous fashion as I attempt to find out if you're busy this Friday evening while trying to pretend I'm not asking you out on a date."

She blinked then smiled. "I prefer the second option."

"I had a feeling," he said dryly but the look was back in his eyes again and she realised it was an odd mixture of amusement and affection.

There was silence again as he waited for a reply and she watched him steadily. At length he frowned. She didn't seem inclined to reply any time soon to the question and it puzzled him.

"Well?" he asked.

"Well?" she was still looking calm and collected. Infact, she had even risen to put on her lab coat as if the conversation was over. It was making him nervous.

"Is Friday good for you?"

"That's it?" she asked. Her tone was indignant but there was a sly smile forming in her eyes.

Daniel suddenly felt off-balance. He had thought he had everything under control but apparently he had missed something important judging by the way Janet was behaving. "Um... I thought the second option was good for you... you know... Friday? Are you free? For dinner?"

"Ah, there it is!" her eyes sparkled with delight.

"What?" he was now thoroughly bewildered.

She gave him an achingly innocent look. "The charmingly nervous stammer, of course. You _did_ promise me the charmingly nervous stammer as you asked me out, right?"

He stared at her, dumbfounded, as it finally dawned on him how easily he had just been manipulated.

She laughed at the expression on his face and patted his arm comfortingly. "Let me check my calender a sec." Taking pity on him, she moved back across to her desk.

He sucked in a breath and felt life returning to his mind once more. "Ah. The calender," he commented sagely.

She paused and glanced at him suspiciously. "What?"

Completely recovered, he was looking decidedly smug. "The calender." He nodded to her. "How about I speed this up? You're free Friday evening. You already know this but insist on checking your calender in order to convince me that you're a busy working mother who I should never attempt to take for granted. Am I right?"

"Um..." Janet stared at him. It was funny how fast the tables could turn.

He grinned, apparently thinking the same thing. "Since we both know you're free Friday night, and in five years of knowing you I've _never_ taken you for granted, I'll set a reservation for around twenty hundred hours and pick you up from your house."

His blue eyes were now looking as innocent as hers had earlier. "By the way, Doctor Warner needs you in the infirmary," he added, stepping back outside the office. He had the last word, and they both knew it.

She stared at him, then straightened her shoulders and moved towards the door. "I have a better plan," she said easily, walking past him into the corridor. "You turn up at my place an hour early with an excessively expensive bottle of wine and we'll spend the time debating who pays for the meal before we go." And casually, she strolled off up the corridor with a smug grin.

Daniel stared after her for several moments. Alright, so apparently someone forgot to tell her she wasn't supposed to have the last word. Shaking his head and grinning wryly, he followed. It was official. He was involved in the relationship from Hell. Funny thing was, he didn't mind a bit.


End file.
